


Mind Games

by canniblanch



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Lance, Detective Shiro, Eventual Pining Keith, F/M, IM SHOOK, Lance is just insecure, Lance just needs love GIVE HIM LOVE, M/M, Mind Reader Keith, Orphan Keith (Voltron), Shiro is pure and full of dad jokes, Shiro wants to adopt Keith, Shiro wants to be Keith's dad but he's more of a brother really, Slow Burn, Telepath Keith, Telepathic Perception, Telepathy, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Pidge | Katie Holt, allura is best mom, hunk is an angel, keith's parents died when he was 11, klance, lance is a pervert, shallura - Freeform, shiro is keith's legal guardian, what are tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-10-30 05:17:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10869888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canniblanch/pseuds/canniblanch
Summary: All Keith ever wanted to do was be like his guardian Shiro, a respected detective of the Terran Police Force. Being able to read the thoughts of anyone served to be useful in that aspect, but not so much when the new Cuban guy in class can't keep his perverted thoughts at a down low.





	1. To Read A Mind

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first jab at a Voltron fic, let alone a Klance one. Heck this is my first public fic! This is unbeta'd so I apologize as early as now for any possible mistakes! Of course, nothing here but the story belongs to me else Klance would've been canon ages ago.

*Note:

Sentences presented in “This manner.” are spoken lines.  
Sentences presented in _‘This manner.'_ are telepathically read thoughts.  
Sentences presented in _this manner_ are usually Keith’s own thoughts or to simply give emphasis on the word/phrase. Either way, it'd be easy to tell which is which.*

 

Keith stared at his hands, something he was prone to doing quite recently. He sighed, leaning further into the couch he was sitting on. He was a telepath. There was no questioning that. He had several years to question that. Yeah, admittedly this whole telepathy business was an invasion of privacy and in the beginning, when it manifested in him as a child, it felt so wrong to him. But if Keith learned anything over the years, it was that he had to get used to it, and he did, sort of. No one wanted their personal thoughts read by some college sophomore, but Keith didn't want to go reading people's minds off the road either. It was a two way street of discomfort. Some of those thoughts were unnerving.

There was no off and on switch. He couldn't just decide he was tired of hearing about who's sleeping with whom, or what that girl really thought about her friend's haircut, and everything would just _stop_. He tried his best, he really did. But it wasn't exactly something he could control and the next thing he knew, he had intimate knowledge of the people around him, ready for blackmail. Not that he'd blackmail anyone. At least not for now.

 

"You doing okay, Keith?" He heard his guardian mutter, voice dipped in concern but mind a cold blank slate. Shiro always was good at that thing, hiding his thoughts. Well it wasn't exactly hiding, he simply didn't have a Thought Frequency as high as the others did.

"Yeah," and that was all he could find himself to say, prying his eyes away from the closest thing he had to a family and back to his own hands. Like he said, he had no control over whose minds he got to read. Some people were open books, unwittingly screaming their thoughts, while Keith couldn't hear a single thing from the more tame individuals. He started calling it Thought Frequency in middle school, back when he was obsessed with this radio-themed movie.

 "Are you sure, buddy? I'm here if you need to talk. I know you're anxious about something."

"I'm fine, Shiro. I'm always anxious about something."

 The older man laughed and Keith couldn't help but smile as Shiro paced around their apartment. "Looks like I'll be taking a little longer again tonight, we're working on a particularly tough case."

 "I'll order a pizza or something, yeah, yeah."

 "Get something healthy for once, huh? And don't stay up too late! And do your homework!"

 "You're much better at the whole dad thing if you don't try," Keith smirked, watching in amusement as Shiro searched for his car keys.

 "Aha! There you are. Alright, Keith, I'm off. Take care of yourself!"

 "Sure."

 "I love you!"

 "Sure."

 "We're family, okay?"

 "Go to work, Shiro."

 It didn't take long for Keith to get bored of the telepathy. A month into reading minds and it was nothing but an annoyance, he realized as he watched Shiro drive away from their window. But seeing Shiro enter the Terran Police Force, doing what he did best, landing detective early on into his career, it made Keith want to be the exact same thing. The telepathy helped, especially when the criminals were practically screaming their crimes at him. And at the very least, his telepathy could be of use. He yawned, picking up his bag beside him and launching himself out of the door. Class didn't start for another hour and their apartment was only a ten minute bus ride away but Keith supposed he could do with a little chat.

 

-

 

"Keith!" Pidge waved at him as he sat next to a napping Hunk at the library.

"Hey Pidge. How is he getting away with that, doesn't the librarian hate sleeping?"

 The bespectacled teen shrugged, "Surprisingly, Hunk isn't snoring today so the old coot hasn't noticed yet. Hey, is Shiro working late, too?"

 "Yeah. What, is Matt on the same case?"

 "Yup. Dad, too. Seems pretty serious. Dad says it might be a cult, call themselves Galra I think."

 Keith scoffed knowingly, "He told you that?"

 As expected, Pidge's cheeks flushed pink. "Okay, so maybe his emails told me that."

 "Hunk's dreaming about food again," Keith chuckled.

 "Yeah? How'd you figure?"

 Keith allowed himself to smirk as Hunk, as if on cue, started mumbling about mashed potatoes. "Lucky guess."

 Pidge was like Shiro, they weren't too loud about what went inside their heads, but the younger was a little more laid back, thoughts slipping into Keith's reach here and there. It didn't exactly surprise Keith when he found out about Katie and he didn't care either. Pidge was Pidge and he was who he says he was, they're friends and nothing would change that. Hunk, on the other hand, was pretty straightforward. He was so easy to read but it never really mattered since he spoke out his mind anyway. It made hanging out with them a lot easier and Keith really did like the two.

 

It was around an hour later when Hunk nudged him as they walked to their first lecture, "Hey, you heard about the new guy?"

 "New guy?"

 "Of course not, Pidge is probably the only one in class who knows."

 "Hey, I only hacked the class list to check if I passed that midterm. He's Cuban, you know. Student number 16-0049: McClain, Lance." Pidge crossed his arms in pride of his hacking prowess and Keith shot him a look when they finally got to their room.

 "He's Cuban, but his name's McClain?"

 Pidge glared, "What? I didn't name the guy!"

 Hunk laughed nervously, "Sure, let's all just yell about our hacking and stalking, why don't we."

 "I don't stalk!" Pidge pouted, arms crossed. " _I don't stalk._ "

 "Okay, don't sulk. Professor's here. Better get to our seats." Keith whispered.

 Hunk made a scandalized sound and slapped Keith across the arm, earning an angered yelp from the latter. "Hey! The hell was that for?!"

"Oooh! Keith, it looks like you're sitting with the new guy! See ya later!"

 Keith grumbled as Hunk and Pidge left to their respective seats and sure enough, when he glanced at his row, there sat the Cuban newbie. _Strange. Who would join class in the middle of the semester?_ He sighed and took his seat before the professor could start scolding him.

 

_'Ooh mama, this señorita is fine. Bet she'd look even finer in my arms.'_

 

Keith scoffed. _Great, I'm sitting next to a sexist pervert._ He casually glanced at the new guy beside him, whose eyes were blatantly trained on the girl sitting in front of him.

 

_'Wonder if I can score her digits. Does she have a boyfriend? Doesn't matter.'_

 

_Seriously? Is he even trying? Anyone with eyes could see he's staring intently at her, what a creep._

 

_'Ooh la la, forget her, that one is even hotter!'_

 

 _Ugh, gross._ Keith felt himself cringe as he witnessed the guy bite his lower lip. He followed McClain's gaze to another girl two seats over. Keith kept his gaze on him even as his eyes continued to wander over the class.

 

_'So many hot people here, damn I hit the jackpot. I'd totally let him fuck me.'_

 

Keith's cheeks reddened slightly as the idiot beside him briefly thought of a rather explicit scene about himself and the dude by the front row. Caught off guard by the image, Keith failed to react in time as the newbie turned his gaze towards him. A split second later than Keith hoped, he managed to turn his head to the professor down front, forcing his attention on the lesson and praying to every deity that the new guy didn't catch him staring.

 

_'Woah, 2007 called, they want their emo look back. Pfft!'_

 

 _Okay, what the fuck was that supposed to mean?_ Keith glanced to his left, this McClain turd was staring straight at the front of the class now.

 

_'Man, who still wears a mullet these days? Lame.'_

 

"Excuse me, did you want to tell me something?" Keith spat through gritted teeth. The idiot only looked at him, polite confusion written all over his face. He grinned annoyingly.

 "Oh. No. I'm Lance though, I'm new if that's what you mean."

 "I don't care." And just like that, Lance stopped grinning.

 

_'Uhhh, okay. Asshole.'_

 

"If you wanna say something, say it to my face!"

 "What the hell is wrong with you, man?! Chill!"

 

_'What a waste of a decent face.'_

 

"Fuck off!" Keith barked, cheeks flushed a red color.

 "Mr. Kogane, can I help you?" the professor drawled out, voice audibly laced with irritation.

 Keith went even redder, ducking his head down and muttering an apology. He could definitely hear that idiot laughing in his head.

 "You could learn to shut the fuck up." He growled at Lance's direction.

 The guy threw him an incredulous look, "What are you talking about, I said, like, _two things!_ "

 

_'Dios mío, go back to hot topic.'_

 

"There you go again! Shut the fuck up about me!"

 "Mr. Kogane! I don't appreciate what you're doing."

 "Shut up! Your goddamn wife doesn't appreciate you sleeping with your students!" He clamped a hand over his mouth, the anger seeping out of his pores to be replaced by heavy regret as he realized what he had just said. Everything was silent for the shortest of seconds, all eyes turned to him. Keith had enough time to catch Pidge and Hunk all the way across the room staring at him in shock before all hell broke loose. As though a dam finally gave way, all the thoughts came flooding at him at full force. He could barely understand a word, everyone was thinking at the same time and they were all practically screaming in his ears, but he had the worst luck just enough to register the small thought beside him that sent him over the edge.

 

_'Daaamn boiiiiii.'_

 

"Fuck you!" Keith all but screamed at McClain’s face.

 "That's it! Mr. Kogane, get out of my class!" The professor fumed, his face and neck red with anger and embarrassment. Keith growled, wrapping his fingers around his pen and chucking it right at the boy next to him, who raised his arms up in defense.

 "Hey! What the hell, man?!"

 Keith threw his bag over his shoulder, still shaking with anger. He pushed his way to the door and made sure to slam it shut as he left. What was he thinking? Why the hell did he get so worked up about some stranger's impression of him? It wasn't the first time someone thought badly of him. He couldn't even blame the guy for having an opinion. But, _fuck_ , did he want to. He was just so infuriating! The thought of his stupid face and his stupid voice made Keith growl once more, kicking a nearby trashcan over. _Great. Now I'm even liable for littering._

Keith paused, trying to calm down with numbered breaths. It was just a class. No big deal. His grades were extremely high, he could get away with a little misconduct. On the bright side, if he ever got kicked out of it, that meant he wouldn't have to be around the new guy. Yeah, that sounded great. With a final sigh, Keith smiled and camped out in the library until his next lecture. He was stretched out on a bench three hours later, attempting to balance a pencil atop his nose, when Hunk and Pidge practically threw themselves at him.

 "Keith, what the hell happened back there?!"

 "The professor was so pissed he gave us an extra workload! Was he really sleeping with his students?"

 " _Hunk!_ " Pidge looked scandalized but the curiousity hidden in his head certainly didn't escape Keith.

 "What? Aren't you curious? Keith wouldn't explode like that if there wasn't a good reason."

 Keith rolled his eyes, pushing the two a few good feet away from him. "Yes, he does. Hannah, Marian, and Becca. They're all fucking him for good grades, as far as I know. There could be more."

 Pidge stared at him in disbelief. "How do you know? Did you hack his emails or something?"

 "I'm not like you, Pidge. I couldn't do that even if I wanted to."

 "Then how—“

 "I just do, okay?" He groaned, crossing his arms in frustration. Why was he even saying these things? He had no way of proving what was true.

 "Are you gonna be okay, dude?" Hunk asked him softly and Keith might as well be hearing his concerned thoughts over a megaphone.

 "Yeah. _Yeah_ , I don't know what happened. Guess I just lost it. The new guy was being an ass."

 "Really?" Pidge pouted the way he did when remembering something. "Didn't seem like he talked to you much up there."

 "Pidge, shut the hell up, before I break your laptop."

 "You couldn't. My baby's protected."

 Keith smirked, "I know where you keep it, Pidge. I know where you keep the back-ups, too."

 "Nuh-uh, no way. You'd never—…Did Matt tell you? He did, didn't he?!"

 Keith shrugged and decided to keep his response at that, knowing full well that the paranoia would shut Pidge up more effectively. He stretched his arms and stood, "You guys wanna grab some lunch?"

 As expected, Hunk was quick to agree but Pidge seemed to be concerned about something. Keith threw him a look, an eyebrow raised in question.

 "What's up?"

 "You're not mad at Lance, are you?"

 "Lance?" Keith asked, "You mean the new guy? Why?"

 Pidge looked away, lower lip trapped between his teeth as he avoided Keith's question. When he realized he wasn't getting any answers from the boy, Keith turned to Hunk.

 "Oh. Yeah, we invited him to eat lunch with us. Pidge wanted to make him feel welcome at school."

 "Pidge!" Keith groaned.

 "I didn't know you two had beef! It didn't seem like he was harassing you from where we were sitting!" He then added dryly, "It didn't even seem like he talked to you all that much."

 " _Pidge!_ "

 "I'm sorry!"

 "No, you are going straight to Fuck Boy and you're gonna tell him he can't sit with us!"

 Hunk chuckled, "Was that a Mean Girls reference?"

 "Shut up, Hunk."

 "Come on, Keith, it can't be that bad! We had a class together right after the one you got kicked out of, he's a pretty funny guy.”

 "I'm serious, Pidge."

 Pidge furrowed his brows, seemingly putting his foot down, "Why? What did he even do to you!"

 This had Keith pausing, closing his eyes then opening them as he let out a deep breath. "Nothing."

 "Then why do you—"

 "I don't know, okay?!" Keith growled, cutting Pidge off. "He just…annoys me, alright?"

 Pidge pouted once again and glanced at Hunk, who then smiled at Keith in a comforting manner. "It's okay, Keith. Just give him a chance, you don't even have to talk to him. Let him sit with us."

 Now it was Keith's turn to pout. He pressed his eyes shut, hoping to drown out the hopeful thoughts emanating from Hunk. He faced the other way as his eyes fluttered open, arms stubbornly crossed.

 

"Fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote Pidge here as a trans male so I'm using male pronouns since, in the canon, Pidge still identifies as a girl but dresses as a boy. I get the whole debate about that but I just found it better fitting to the narrative if Pidge was trans, after all Pidge would have no reason to disguise himself in a college and it makes sense for Keith to know that one fact about him through telepathy.


	2. To Read His Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Keith decides he hates the new guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, this took way longer than I expected to upload. I stopped in the middle of writing it to prioritize other things and I never got around to actually finishing it. Sorry and I hope you read on!

_‘Ah, fuck, it's mullet man.’_

 

Keith frowned as this Lance guy approached them, along with his unwanted opinions. He noticed the closer the guy got to their table with all his tanned skin and irredeemable swagger, the thinner Keith's own patience wore.

“You can't sit with us,” he grumbled as Lance propped down beside Hunk. Keith made sure the guy could feel the venom in his glare.

“You can't be ser—Wait, was that a Mean Girls reference?”

Hunk beamed, glad that someone was on the same page as him, “Right?!”

“Wh—No, it's not! Shut up! I haven't even seen that shitty movie—“

Lance and Hunk gasped in offense, huddling close to each other in feigned devastation as Pidge pulled Keith into a whispered conversation. “Dude, I thought we all agreed to be nice for half a damn hour?”

“Yeah, well I take it back, his face is annoying.” He glanced at Lance, who was busy hitting it off with Hunk, and grimaced just to prove a point. Pidge followed his gaze and let out an audibly irritated sigh.

“No backsies, Keith, you promised.”

“Did you,” Keith muttered in delightful surprise, “Did you seriously just say ‘no backsies’? That might have just been the cutest thing you've said thus far, if not the cringiest.”

Pidge threw him a scowl and adjusted his glasses. “Don't patronize me. Now stop acting like a child and suck it up.”

“Look, _amigo_ , you're missing out here. We're gonna have to sit you down and have us a movie night!” Lance yelled over them, reclaiming the table’s attention. Hunk and Pidge lit up, already warming up to their new friend as Keith was left to sulk. He didn't like that the three had possibly already bonded this much in the span of a class or two without him.

“I'm down! I love movie nights!” Hunk swelled with excitement and Keith could already hear his thoughts about buttery goodness. Pidge was practically bobbing up and down next to him, “Me, too! We should do a marathon, let’s each bring our favorite movie.”

Lance grinned from ear to ear and leaned forward, much to the chagrin of Keith who sat directly across from him. “Sounds great, that's a really cool way to get to know each other better. I think the movies we like say a lot about who we are.”

“That's the cheesiest, stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard,” Keith growled.

Hunk shrugged, “Aw come on, Keith. It'll be fun. _Poooooopcorn_.”

“Yeah, and Lance’s kinda right. If you did unironically like, say, Adam Sandler movies, it does say a lot about how poor your tastes are.”

“What, I d—Hey, just so you know, that was a hypothetical statement! Pidge didn't really mean that, I don't fucking like his movies! Don't get the wrong idea, _Lance_.” Keith blurted out, flustered for reasons unknown to him, at the thought of Lance thinking poorly of his taste in films. Lance had the audacity to laugh, and what a stupid laugh it was.

Lance shrugged, “I liked his ‘50 First Dates’. It was pretty cute. Wasn't a masterpiece but, hey, I'm a sucker for romance.”

 

_‘To think someone would love you so much they'd willingly go through the pain of being forgotten each day. Must be nice.’_

 

Keith looked away, his face still burning in what he assumed was pure embarrassment, caught off guard by Lance’s thoughts. “Fuck off, I said I don't like his shit.”

“Hey, it's _fine_. We all have our guilty pleasures.” Lance smirked mockingly, “I don't mind that you sleep with Adam Sandler’s face taped to your ceiling—”

Pidge added coyly, “—And with a collector’s edition bundle of his entire filmography under your pillow each night—”

“—Which you rearrange back on your Adam Sandler shrine every morning before school.” Hunk followed suit, immediately shot down by Keith’s angered grumbling.

“Shut up, _all_ of you!”

The three burst out in laughter, conspiring against Keith much to the telepath’s dismay. He pushed his empty food tray aside and perched his elbows on the table, grunting in disapproval as his hands rubbed at his face. Lance cocked his eyebrow at the action and his grin stretched even wider, “Come on, it's all in good fun.”

“Yeah, _thanks, I'm in stitches_ ,” Keith muttered in dry sarcasm.

“But you're going, right?”

“What?”

“To movie night.”

Keith furrowed his brows, for once in his life deliberately trying to read someone's thoughts. To his surprise, he came up empty handed and this threw him off.

“Uh, sure, I guess.”

Lance smiled and Keith definitely had to look away, “Cool.”

Pidge coughed, “Don't wanna be the harbinger of bad news but where are we even supposed to have this movie night? My place is a no, we only have one TV and dad likes watching crappy soaps every night.”

“ _Ooooh_ , we could hang at my place! My roommate is never around so it'll be fine, plus it's on campus grounds so it's easy access.”

“Alright,” Lance announced, pounding his fist on the table, “Hunk’s place it is then!”

“Nice, I’ll text you the directions, Lance.”

“How does Friday sound?”

“Yeah, seems about right.”

“Same here.”

“Keith?”

He looked at them, scratched the back of his neck for a little bit, then sighed. “Okay, I guess.”

“Seriously, is that the limit of your vocabulary, _‘I guess’_?” The Cuban grumbled, “Show a little enthusiasm, buddy!”

 

_‘You could be a little less emo for five fucking minutes.’_

 

“I'll _enthusiastically_ stab you.”

“He _would_ ,” Pidge said a matter-of-factly while Hunk nodded across from him. “Keith’s got an obsession with knives and he's actually really fucking good with them.”

Lance blinked, unsure of how to take in the last few sentences uttered to him.

 

_‘They can't be serious—‘_

 

“It's true,” Keith smirked, mounting his chin on his palm suggestively, eyes trained on Lance’s own. He had to keep himself from laughing when he noticed the taller boy swallowed nervously, but was ultimately unable to restrain his lips from curling up into an amused smile.

“I'm gonna go first,” Keith breathed out as he stood, admittedly less tense than he was five minutes ago. “I have a class in twenty minutes on the other side of the campus.”

“Oh, so do I! Which building is yours in?” Lance began to put aside his nearly untouched meal as Keith blinked, at a loss for words. “Seriously? You just got here and now you're leaving?”

Lance made a face, “Well, _duh_. I've got a class in twenty.”

Pidge scoffed but wasn't serious as he said, “Skip it.”

“Aw man. You're really gonna waste all this food?” Hunk frowned in disappointment.

“Uh,” Lance raised a brow, looking at Hunk, then at his food, then back at Hunk. “You can…have it, if you want?”

The tallest of the group looked offended, crossing his arms. Keith raised a brow at Hunk’s thoughts, unused to hearing such hostility from him about someone besides a guy named Rolo in one of his Physics class.

 

_‘Seriously? Does he take me for some dog who'll eat a stranger’s scraps? Yeah, I'm fat but I'm not a damn pig.’_

 

“No way. I love food and I would never disrespect it like that. Besides, I make an infinitely better sauce.”

Lance shrugged before climbing out of his seat and approaching Keith, “Well, it's not my fault I only have a thirty minute break between two classes.”

Keith raised his brow, already slinging his bag over his shoulder. “But it _is_ your fault that you wasted those minutes babbling instead of eating.”

Lance chose not to utter a word and fixed a mild scowl on his face, but his thoughts bled through to Keith anyway.

 

_‘Ugh, what is your deal, mullet?’_

 

Keith frowned, thinking to himself that perhaps he truly _was_ incapable of feeling civil around this Cuban piece of shit. He decided the best way to illustrate that was to wordlessly walk away without him. He heard Pidge and Hunk bid their goodbyes, followed by the rushing footsteps of said Cuban piece of shit.

Unfortunately for Keith, who was trying his best to out-walk Lance, the guy was also trying his best to catch up. The taller boy, with consequently longer legs, managed to keep up and started to ramble the _moment_ he fell into step beside the telepath. Keith tuned it out for the most part, given that he really couldn't care any less about what was being said to him, especially coming from that dorito’s mouth. Lance likely failed to notice as the lack of a response didn't seem to bother him. Here and there, one of Lance’s unwelcome thoughts would permeate Keith's consciousness and since thoughts were generally harder to tune out than verbal words, he'd resort to biting the inside of his cheek to divert his attention. Keith pretended he didn't care that some of those thoughts were in Spanish, and therefore, out of his reach. Like an obnoxious itch you could _feel_ but couldn't scratch.

Thankfully, they rounded a corner and stepped into the hallway where he took his sociology class. He smirked, happy to bid Lance goodbye, fully expecting to part ways then and there. To his surprise and—arguably—dismay, Lance remained joined at his hip with an excited grin plastered on his stupid face.

“You're taking Sociology of the Family, too?”

“Oh for _fuck’s_ _sake_.”

“That's _crazy_!” Lance beamed.

It really was. It was a class students rarely took in their campus, especially someone taking a criminal justice degree program. Granted, he didn't know what degree program Lance was in, but really he couldn't say he cared. Regardless, it was a relatively obscure class and that was one of the reasons Keith took it in the first place. What were the odds that his new _buddy ol’ pal_ was taking it, too?

“I can't fucking believe this,” he grumbled in exasperation, to which Lance responded by slinging an arm over Keith's shoulder.

“Don't worry, buddy, I'll try to play it cool so I don't one-up you _too_ much.”

Keith was careful to exclude any sort of subtlety in the act of peeling Lance’s arm off his shoulders. He threw in a look of disgust for good measure.

Lance shifted his weight from one foot to another, an obvious attempt at being casual that didn't escape Keith. “Hey, so do you mind if I sit next to you? It's just that I don't know anybody here so it'll make me feel better if I could talk to someone.”

“No.” Keith sighed.

“Aw, come on. That whole Adam Sandler bit was just a joke. His earlier films were actually pretty good.”

A groan and an eye roll later, “Can you just shut up, I don't care about that anymore.”

“Then you'll let me sit—“

“No.”

“What's the big deal, why do you h—“

“There's a seating arrangement. The professor is strict about it, you can't just sit anywhere.”

“Oh.” Lance muttered, embarrassed.

“You're gonna have to wait for her outside and ask her for your seat number the moment you see her. She's a bitch about being late, too, so I'll head in first.”

“Uh, wait! How do I, er, know it's _her_?”

“White hair, angular face, probably frowning.” Keith shrugged. “Professor Haggar is as much as a hag as her name suggests, you'll just _know_ it's her when you see her.”

“Er,” Lance swallowed, eyes pinned to the floor, “ _Thanks_.”

Keith allowed himself a few seconds to stare at Lance, and another few to read his mind. But of course, to Lance, he was _just_ staring. He almost, _almost_ chuckled at the subtle change from awkward embarrassment to awkward self-consciousness. Instead, he offered up a small, _not quite_ sincere smile.

“No problem.”

Before he knew it, and thankfully so, his legs took him inside the room and propped him down on his seat. Haggar had the habit of showing up to class ten minutes too early and ending it ten minutes too late so by the time Keith was pulling his notes out of his bag, more than half of the class was already there—in the sense that only thirteen people were taking the class and one fourths of the room was as close as it was ever gonna get to full. The last remaining people trickled in moments before Haggar showed up, Lance tailing her like a puppy. _A puppy with its tail between its legs_ , Keith noted with amusement. He couldn't blame him, Haggar was a beast.

He watched as Haggar sifted through her class list, seemingly reprimanding Lance over something, and pointed to a seat at the second row. Lance followed her finger and sat next to some blonde girl, typically flirting with her the moment his butt touched the seat.

 _Classic_ , Keith groaned internally, eyes itching to roll. He sat at the back row with possibly the best view of Lance’s endeavors and the shittiest view of what was actually on the chalkboard. Keith honestly had no idea which was more frustrating, Lance McClain or the fact that he had to _force_ himself to look away from him. Nevertheless, he trained his eyes toward Haggar and her PowerPoint slides.

 

“Psst. Hey, _mullet_!”

 _What could he possibly want_ now _?_

“ _Cariño_!”

Peeved at the moniker, Keith snapped his eyes toward Lance’s direction only to find him flailing about, the girl beside him giggling.

“Mulletman!”

Keith glanced over at Haggar and when he was sure she wasn't paying attention, he hissed back. “ _What_?”

He watched as Lance made a writing gesture, prompting Keith to mouth a “What the _fuck_?”

“Your pen,” Lance mouthed back.

“ _What_?”

“Your. Pen.”

Brows furrowed, Keith turned to his notes and, indeed, his pen was nowhere to be found. He stared back at Lance, in the Cuban’s hand was his pen. Like a photo reel, the memory of angrily chucking the pen at him played in his mind.

“Fuck.”

The girl beside Lance giggled again. _Does she think she's cute when she does that?_

He barely even noticed the lack of writing tools. He only had three classes that day and seeing as he got kicked out of his first class and it was presentation day in his second, he hadn't needed his pen at all. He turned his attention back to Lance in time to watch him fling the pen in his direction, over the heads of the other students and right at his face. Fortunately, his reflexes were fast enough for him to lean back and catch the pen in his hand. What was _less_ fortunate, however, was the fact that this action sent his chair and body tumbling over, with his back flat against the ground and legs up in the air in an awkward and slightly painful position. Not to mention the pain in his head probably caused by smacking headfirst onto the tiled floor, but _really_ at this point he wouldn't second-guess if instead it had been caused by the loud murmuring of his classmates inside his mind. Keith just lay there, feet up high and ego down low, eyes focused on the ceiling and mind _refusing_ to focus on the obvious mirth radiating from the people around him—excluding, of course, the seething fury emanating from one lone figure in front of the room.

“Mr. Keith Kogane, what the _hell_ do you think you're doing in my class?!”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was quite hoping to end this chapter with the movie night but I thought I'd stick to a 2k word limit for each chapter just because it's easier and I feel like it'd be better to move that movie night a few chapters later. Thank you for bearing with me and I hope you're still interested in reading this!


	3. To Read His Mind Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Keith attempts to come into terms with his irrationality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy guess who forgot their account password? Oops. Sorry for this, but in any case I'm not making any promises either since, regardless of losing passwords and doing other things, I'm a slow writer anyway. I'm so mad about this because I've written out scenes and plot points throughout the story but I'm struggling to write the shit between those scenes ayyy

This was the second time in a single day that Keith found himself staring at the closed door of a classroom, having been kicked out of it just moments prior. Both times at the hands of a certain Cuban nuisance. _Ugh_ , he rolled his eyes as with his shoulders, not too keen about the throbbing in his head or the soreness of his lower back. Just his luck to share the same class as Lance with the one teacher who would suspend you over a mistimed sneeze.

  
_Whatever_ , he told himself. At least now he could head straight home. Haggar’s class was his last for the day and—considering the _early_ _dismissal_ —there wasn't really a point to waiting up for Pidge or Hunk. On a normal day, Keith would hang out with both or either of the two but at this point, it would take at least two hours before they were done with their own classes. With a sigh that only seemed to strain his already sore back, he began to walk away.

  
“Hey, wait a minute!”

  
Keith audibly groaned at the sound of Lance’s voice, which, at this point, was akin to nails on a chalkboard to him. For a second, he thought of pretending he didn't hear him and keep walking away but Lance hooked his arm over Keith’s shoulders before he could've gotten away with it.

  
“Sorry about that chair dealio, buddy.”

  
“What the fuck are you doing out here?”

  
“Told the old crone I needed to _squeeze_ _the_ _lemon_.”

  
Keith threw him a look of disgust as he pushed Lance off him, “The fuck?”

  
“That whole thing back there? Really, _really_ sorry about it. Nyma told me Professor Hag gives quizzes at the end of each lecture so I just thought you needed your pen back. Guess I kinda expected you to actually _catch_ _the_ _thing_.”

  
“ _Nyma?_ ”

  
“The gorgeous _diosa_ I’m absolutely blessed to be sitting next to.” Lance beamed, eyes glittering in revolting infatuation. Keith could feel vomit fighting to crawl up his throat. Really, the best option was to change the subject if he ever wanted to keep his lunch down.

  
“By the way, I _did_ catch that pen. It was _your_ aim that was shit.”

"No way, I'm a sharpshooter.”

“Uh-huh, _sure_. You _definitely_ meant to hit me in the face. Actually, no, you're right, you probably did mean to do that.”

“ _What_ ,” Lance barked in indignation, “It definitely didn't hit you in the face, _you_ _fell_ _over_. That's not my fault.”

“Are you kidding? The only reason I fell over was because my pen was going to hit me square in the eyes because of your stupid aim! I had to fucking lean back to make up for _your_ shortcomings!”

“Yeah, well— _You’re_ a shortcoming!”

“That doesn't even make sense!”

Keith could quite literally hear the gears turning in Lance’s head as the taller of the two fought to come up with a comeback. Lance had finally decided on something along the lines of “ _you_ don’t make sense” but the door behind them flew open before it ever left his mouth. In sync, their heads turned towards the figure that stood where the door once was. Prominently white hair over a taut frown could have only meant one dreadful thing: Haggar.

Indeed, she stood there, eyebrows low and nearly touching in her fury. “How dare you disturb my class _twice_. What kind of students are you, without an ounce of discipline, shouting and shrieking wherever you please?!” She glared at Lance. “You, too, _out_.”

  
The Cuban attempted to lock sympathetic gazes with Keith, but the latter wasn’t having any of it. Instead, the telepath opted for an apology directed at the sociology professor, head tilting slightly downward in a half bow. Lance immediately followed suit, parroting both Keith’s words and movements and later rushing into the room to grab his things before ultimately shuffling back out.

  
“ _Congratulations_ ,” Keith muttered dryly, immediately after Haggar slammed the door on their faces.

  
“Screw that, _she_ was making a good class boring. I’m just sad I left Nyma back there with the hag.”

  
“Oh yeah,” he rolled his eyes, “The blonde girl next to you.”

  
Lance sighed dreamily. Keith wanted to puke once again.

  
“Yeah, isn’t she _just_ _gorgeous_?”

  
“I think the real question is, ‘isn’t she _too_ _giggly_ ’?”

  
“Only when you’re funny like me.”

  
“You’re right, I’d laugh at that face, too.”

Lance sucked in an indignant breath, palms flying dramatically to lay flat against his own chest in feigned woe. “Rude.”

“I _know_ , how the hell does one person get someone else kicked out of class, _twice_?”

“What? Hey man, I had nothing to do with the thing this morning!”

“Oh, _sure_.” Keith rolled his eyes in disdain, feet already making quick work of getting him out of there.

 

  
‘ _What the actual ever loving—_ ’

 

  
“You can’t _actually_ be serious?” Lance grumbled behind him, voice fading the further Keith walked away. “I didn’t do anything to you!”

The telepath kept his mouth clamped shut, uninterested in keeping this conversation going, especially considering where it was headed and what the implications were for him. He was scared. _Terrified_ , even, at the thought that he _had_ nothing to say. He didn’t want to face the other guy, to be absolutely enraged at him, only to fail to give him any reason at all as to _why_ he was so bent out of shape. And that was what made him both angrier and more horrified, the two conflicting feelings doubling whenever he so much as glanced at the Cuban. Lance was right, Pidge was right, and worst of all, _he_ wasn’t; Lance didn’t do anything to him.

His legs kept moving like a well oiled machine in spite of the erratic chaos of anything above his lower body. His head was abuzz with a myriad of unwanted thoughts, his chest could easily be confused with an active percussion room, and he could barely handle the trembling of his now clammy hands. Thankfully, this time around, Lance had the wits to leave him to his own devices. Before Keith ever had the chance to silently thank all the gods he never even believed in, he found himself boarding a bus home. Much of the rest of his day was spent rolling over on his couch with Netflix on. Keith had a whole pizza to himself and deemed it a compensation for having been at war with himself on whether or not he was justified with the way he regarded Lance. By the time Shiro called to tell him he wouldn’t make it home, Keith was already on his bed and ready to fall into the arms of Morpheus, hoping sleep would rid him of his issues. When next day rolled around, however, he still found himself plagued with the same reoccurring thoughts.

 _He_ really _didn’t do anything to me, at least not the first time around. Maybe I am being a little too much of an ass? He_ is _pretty keen on mocking me though. But he’s probably just trying to be friendly. I guess he’s never actually directly insulted me. But then again, is it really such a crime to have an opinion on someone? I mean, everyone has that one person they irrationally hate. Even Hunk loses it whenever Rolo’s within twenty feet of him. Yeah, it’s not fair that he gets to have all those opinions on me and_ I’m _the one supposed to suck it up and—no, that’s not right. It’s not his fault I can read his mind. But does that mean I’m not allowed to be annoyed with him or not like how fake he is towards me? That I’m supposed to give him the benefit of the doubt seeing as I have this whole telepathy shit against him?_

Keith groaned, deciding his head hurt too much for this unreliable train of thought to keep chugging on. Pidge raised a brow beside him but said nothing.

For a moment, Keith contemplated telling Pidge but disregarded it. There was no way he could explain it to him without bringing up the whole telepathy thing. If he tried, he would just come off as an asshole who assumed anyone who was slightly friendly to him—even if annoyingly so—was faking it. Besides, Pidge wasn’t exactly the one to talk to when it came to emotional “conflict within the self” crap like this, Keith would only feel like his “self” issues were infinitesimal compared to Pidge’s. Keith groaned again, this time in resignation.

“Okay, what’s your deal?” Pidge nudged Keith, careful to keep his voice low enough not to alert the professor upfront. “You’ve been groaning all morning and it’s starting to get on my nerves.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve groaned all morning.” Keith raised his brow and smirked coyly, which earned him a hushed punch to his hip.

“No, seriously. You okay? You’re only like this when October 12 comes around and that one time Shiro lost his arm.”

Pidge winced when all he was met with was another drawn out groan from Keith. “Sorry, shouldn’t have mentioned those.”

“I’m okay, really. I’m just…Confused and shit.”

Pidge leaned closer as he patted Keith’s shoulder proudly, “It’s okay, Keith, I’ve always known you were gay. You can rest easy, we love you no matter what.”

“What? _What?_ No, that’s not what I—”

“Oh.” Pidge frowned, leaning back again as his eyebrows rose up. “So you’re _not_ gay?”

Keith blinked at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he struggled to answer, unable to say ‘no’.

The younger of the two smirked as Keith tried to keep both his dignity and his sanity in tact.

 

‘ _Called it.’_

 

Keith flushed at that and gave him a pointed look. “That’s irrelevant!”

“Oh? What else could you be confused about?”

Keith paused, turned his gaze away, and muttered, “Feelings?”

The corners of Pidge’s lips twitched and he gave Keith a suggestive look that all but screamed ‘told you so’.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Alright,” Pidge hummed, deciding to give Keith the benefit of the doubt. “Feelings about?”

“Lance.”

It took a full minute before Keith could realize how that probably sounded, especially considering the direction their conversation was going, and tried his best to take it back before Pidge could snicker at him. Of course, by that time, Pidge was already lost in absolute mirth.

“ _Fuck_ , it’s not like that. Come on, Pidge, five seconds ago you were so gung ho about supporting me.”

Pidge barked out a laugh and Keith was surprised the professor hadn’t caught on, “I _am_ supporting you, Keith. What else could this even be?”

“A witch hunt,” Keith grumbled pointedly.

“Oh, _please_. Well, that explains why you were so miffed about him yesterday. I didn’t believe in the pulling-pigtails kind of love until you.”

Keith glared at him, lips a thin line.

“ _Fine_. What kind of—” Pidge snorted, “— _feelings_ are you having about Lance?”

“The ‘ _I hate you but I don’t know if I’m a jerk for it_ ’ kind.”

“Oh, so we’re back to pulling pigtails, _eh?_ ”

“ _Pidge_ , for the last fucking time—”

“Alright, alright. Let me guess, he’s your Rolo and you think he doesn’t deserve it?”

Keith let out a breath of relief, somewhat pleased Pidge finally took him seriously, “Yes. And no. I mean, I don’t know. Hence, the whole confusion thing. I’m not really sure if I’m supposed to feel bad about hating him. I mean, everybody has a Rolo, right? For all we know, _I’m_ _his_ Rolo.”

“So what makes you think he’s your Rolo?”

“I don’t know—I just, there’s something about him that pisses me off. He’s so obnoxious and full of himself and flirts with anything with two legs. His voice is annoying, his _face_ is annoying, the way he moves is annoying—seriously, have you seen the guy move? _It’s so distracting_ —He keeps mocking me and _yeah_ it’s chill when you guys do it since we’re close but I just met the guy and he thinks it’s okay to shove that stupid _unfunny_ Adam Sandler bit in my face and _then_ offer a fucking movie marathon and _oh_ _boy_ what the hell was that thing he did yesterday when he asked me if I was going? What the hell was that? Did you see the way he smiled? What a fucking dumbass!”

There was a pause between them as Pidge—Keith assumed—thought about what to say. Slowly, the hacker raised his brows and hunched his shoulders in what looked like a slow-motion shrug as though he just finished assessing Keith.

“You're pulling his pigtails.” Pidge concluded.

“God fucking _damnit_ , Pidge.”


End file.
